


Miss You All the Time

by shinewithalltheuntold



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9709019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinewithalltheuntold/pseuds/shinewithalltheuntold
Summary: Robin is in Storybrooke for the initial curse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I'd read a few fics where Robin got caught up in the first curse, but apparently my muse decided they weren't angsty enough and came up with this.

“There is nothing more to say,  _your Majesty._ ” His voice is acid and the words are burning straight through to the bone, the pain of it all leaving her voiceless. “You and I are done.”

 

The front door closes with a quiet click.  It rips at her heart because she  _knows_ he wanted nothing more than to slam that door with all the strength he possessed, but held back because despite his rage he didn’t want to wake the little boy sleeping soundly just up the stairs.

 

“Mommy?” Or perhaps not so soundly.   _No no no_ she thinks frantically.  She had been so careful not to let her voice rise too loud, even at the end when she had been absolutely desperate to make him see her side.  To make him understand how  _sorry_ she was, not for casting the curse – she would never be sorry for coming here and finding her way to Henry – but for talking with him that day in front of the preschool.  For allowing him to ease her motherly concern. For agreeing to let him walk her to work. For listening to him talk about his own struggles as a parent. For not throwing him out the door the day he showed up at her office with a picnic lunch. For catching his sweet little boy at the bottom of the slide while he pushed hers on the swing. For dinners and cartoons and sleepovers and soft stolen kisses.  For falling in love with him and being too selfish to prevent him from falling in love with her as well.

 

“Mommy, are you okay?” Her baby’s sweet voice is high and soft with concern.  She wants to turn and sweep him into her arms, but she can’t let him see the devastation she knows is written all over her face.  She tries to discreetly swipe at her eyes as she hears him move closer, the shuffle of his pajama covered feet getting louder.  She tries to  _breathe_ but it’s so hard because everything hurts so badly right now. Not since Daniel has she felt this kind of pain.

How fitting.

His little hand is on her arm, and his voice is wobbly with tears as he says her name again. He doesn’t ask her if she’s okay this time; her precious empathetic little boy has already figured out that his mother is anything but okay.  She tries lying to him anyway.

“It’s okay, baby,” she says. She turns and scoops him quickly into her arms, to comfort him and to keep him from seeing her tears. He buries his face in her shoulder as she strokes his hair. “Everything’s okay.  Mommy’s here.”

“Did Wobin go home?” Henry asks drowsily as Regina does her best to lull him back to sleep.  He still sounds a bit worried as he adds, “Is that why you’re sad?”

She presses a kiss to his temple. “Yes, baby.  Robin went home.  But I’m not sad.” Her arms tighten around him. “How could I be sad when I have my little prince with me?”

“But you were crying. I heared you,” he says. She sighs, of course he did.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. I just…I got my fingers stuck in the door when I was closing it behind Robin and it hurt a little bit.”

It’s not much of a lie, but however perceptive he might be, Henry is still just a little boy.  And for a little boy, getting fingers squashed in a door is a perfectly legitimate reason to cry.  He lifts his head and presses pudgy fingers to her cheeks, clumsily trying to wipe away her tears.  He looks at her solemnly.

“I’m gonna kiss dem so they feel better,” he makes the offer solemnly, and tears well in her eyes again. Her sweet, sweet little prince.  She smiles and shifts her grip so she can raise one hand to his face.  He leans over and presses firm wet kisses against each finger and then leans back with a grin.

“All better!” he declares happily, and she forces away the rest of her tears as she agrees with him and then tells him it’s time for him to return to bed.  He pouts at that, pleads hunger and thirst and requests a glass of milk and a cookie.  She shakes her head, but does carry him to the kitchen for a small glass of water. Once he’s finished, she carries him back to his room.

She starts to lay him in his bed but he tightens his grip around her neck. “Sleep with you tonight, mommy, please?”

She fights the instinctive ‘no’ that rises to her lips.  She still vividly recalls the one time in childhood she had been driven from her own bed by a fierce storm; she was a little younger than Henry is now. Remembers how harshly her mother had dealt with her tearful request to sleep in her parents’ bed, dragging her back to her room and using magic to keep her trapped under her blankets.  Her father had tried to comfort her, and had snuck into her room the next time it stormed particularly hard to try and calm her fears, but at that point she was more afraid of Mother’s wrath than the storm and pretended to be fine.  He never came in again and she never forgot that lesson.  Passed it onto Snow the first time her step-daughter came running to her rooms after a nightmare pleading to be allowed to stay.  She had refused, and the next morning when Snow relayed Regina’s rejection to Leopold she had expected to be punished for it. She had been shocked when Leopold agreed that Snow was too old for such things; it was one of the few times in their marriage that Leopold had sided with her over his daughter.  Of course, she quickly realized that his reasoning was selfish – he wanted her available at any time to fulfill her ‘wifely duties’.

But that was the Enchanted Forest, not Storybrooke.  And Regina had read all the parenting books and absorbed all the information she could on raising children in the Land Without Magic.  While advice varied somewhat, she usually found that if she simply tried to do the exact opposite of what Cora had done, she was probably doing it correctly.  That included letting Henry sleep with her when he was afraid or unwell, or just wanted to be close to her.  

With that in mind, she cuddles Henry close and tells him that of course he can sleep with her, and grabs his favorite blanket and his stuffed dragon and tucks him into her bed. Once she has changed into her nightclothes, washed off her makeup and brushed her teeth, and climbed in next to him he is fast asleep with his face buried in a pillow that she refuses to admit still smells like Robin.  Pressing a quick kiss to his temple, she wraps one arm around him and tries to find some peace in the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

But not even the soft snuffling breaths of her baby boy can erase the pain of loss she feels.  She doesn’t sleep all night.

***

She doesn’t go into work on Monday.  She’s exhausted, has a splitting headache, and she just can’t face the outside world, this cursed world she created that might just be falling apart.  Can’t face the possibility of seeing  _him._ She keeps Henry home as an excuse to call out. Tells her assistant that he’s sick, calls the school and says he has a bit of a fever – an automatic quarantine.

She tells Henry that they’re having a special mommy/son day.  Lets him stay in his pajamas and makes him chocolate chip pancakes.  Plays Chutes and Ladders and Candy Land and cuddles with him under his blanket to watch Sesame Street.  She revels in the love of her little prince and successfully pretends, if only for a little while, that her heart isn’t broken.

She considers keeping him home Tuesday as well; it’s not as though anyone at the school or her office would really notice.  But Henry notices.  And he wants to go back to school.  Doesn’t want to miss Music Day. Doesn’t want to miss the chance of sitting next to Robin in a little circle on the floor, Roland opposite, and singing all those ridiculous songs that she doesn’t find quite as annoying when it’s her sweet boy singing them.  All her boys. Except only one of them is still hers. But he will always be hers, she vows. Whatever Robin decides, whatever happens to this town and her curse, Henry will  _always_ be hers.

So she takes him to school, but drops him off late enough that she knows Robin is already inside. Already in the classroom, tuning his guitar and engaging with the children in that easy way he has.  She has not heard from him since he stormed out Sunday night.  She hasn’t heard from anyone, and she hopes that means he hasn’t gone looking for others to rally against the Evil Queen.

_Your majesty._ The venom in his voice still eats away at her. Part of her, the part that loves him enough to wake him from the effects of the curse because she could no longer stomach the lies, thinks she should go to him and try once more to explain.  The other more practical part knows that she cannot risk antagonizing him. That if he is still deciding whether or not he should set himself against her, seeing her would just remind him of everything she’s done.  So she watches Henry make his way inside and heads to work.  She is wary when she enters; convinced that Robin’s awakening will signal the end of the curse. Or worse, that he will have begun telling others what he knows.  But it appears neither is true as everything is the same as it’s been for the last two decades, and no one even remembers yesterday’s absence.  It is business as usual in their unendingly mundane lives.

Not for the first time, she wonders if the rest of the town got the better end of the curse.

***

They are standing outside the school on Friday.  Robin and Roland, with their matching jackets and matching dimples.  Robin is kneeling down talking with Roland but he looks up when he hears Henry’s excited shout of his name.  He just manages to brace himself before her son runs full tilt into his legs and hugs him tightly.  And for a moment, Regina thinks he looks…startled.  Startled and confused.  He looks up, searching, and his eyes fall upon her and for the longest moment she cannot move.  Cannot even  _breathe._ Because the look he gives her is searching, and still a bit perplexed, but not filled with anger. Not brimming with hatred.  In fact, after a moment, his expression clears and then…he smiles.  A small smile, but a sincere one.  And then he looks down at Henry and wraps an arm around the boy.  She hesitates, unable to move closer and risk shattering what has to be a dream because he hates her now.  He would never smile at her, never offer a little wave and nod his head towards her son in a silent offer to walk him the rest of the way inside. And yet he is and he did and she has apparently nodded in return because he says something to Henry who turns around and waves a cheerful goodbye before grabbing Robin’s hand and turning towards the school.  Robin raises his own hand in farewell before reaching out for Roland, turning his back on her and escorting their boys to class.

She stands rooted in place for another minute, until she is bumped from behind by a harried parent trying to get his own child inside on time.  Startled back into awareness, she walks to her office as fast as she can in her pencil skirt and heels, determined to avoid another encounter with Robin until she can figure out what the bloody hell the last one meant.

She thinks about it all day but still can’t figure it out.  That little smile.  And even though hope has never been her friend, she can’t help but reach out and cradle it close.  Because even knowing the truth, Robin can still smile at her.  Can still hold her son’s hand.  And maybe, maybe he can even still love her.

He’ll want to break the curse. She has no doubt about that.  As Robin Bower or Robin Hood, he has a strong sense of justice and will not tolerate the people of the Enchanted Forest living forever frozen.  And for the first time, she thinks…she might be able to find a way to be okay with that.  If she could still have the love of her son and Robin and Roland, she thinks she can handle it.  She thinks she can handle anything.  Even the end to Snow White’s suffering. Even the end to her own.

But she can’t push. One smile doesn’t mean he’s forgiven her.  Doesn’t mean he’s not still angry.  So she determines that she will continue to give him his space.  Wait for him to come to her.  Which means breaking the news to a disappointed Henry that there will be no Friday Movie Night this week.  She tries to cheer him up with promises that they’ll still make their own pizza and watch The Fox and the Hound, but he refuses to watch his favorite movie without his own “very best friend.” So instead they agree on the Wizard of Oz, even though the movie sets Regina’s teeth on edge (Mother had told her of Oz, horrible stories of evil wizards and monsters and all sorts of horrors – had threatened to send her there on more than one occasion.) But Henry loves it, and she wants him to be happy, so she will grin and bear it and pretend the munchkins’ voices don’t grate on her last nerve.

Cheered by the prospect of a trip down the Yellow Brick Road, Henry is gleefully helping her create an assembly line of pizza ingredients when the doorbell rings.

Henry immediately bolts from the room, so certain that it’s Robin and Roland at the door that he forgets the rules about asking who’s there and only adults opening the door.  He has already turned the lock and has just managed to turn the knob when she gets there and finds, to her complete amazement, that it  _is_ Robin and Roland at the door.

“R’gina!” Roland lunges forward and Regina reaches out instinctively to brace him.  There is an awkward moment where she tries to lean him back into his father at the same time Robin attempts to hand Roland to her. She is stunned that he is willing to let her hold his son, but cannot pass up the opportunity to cuddle the precious little boy to her.  She had forbidden herself all week to think about Roland for more than a moment at a time, the pain of losing him just as sharp as losing his father in its own way. He is not her son, but he might have been. Might still be.

Because he is here now, his arms wrapped around her neck and his head resting on her shoulder, with his father seemingly content to let him stay that way.  

Henry meanwhile, has flung his arms around Robin’s leg and is clinging tightly.

“You’re here!” Robin takes a moment to crouch down and wrap his arm around her son.

“Of course we’re here. It’s Friday, where else would we be?” he asks, giving Henry a little squeeze. Henry tightens his grip and scowls.

“Mama said you weren’t coming.” Robin looks up at her, and that perplexed look from this morning is back. She doesn’t understand it; surely he can’t be surprised that she wasn’t expecting him after everything that happened the past week.  

“Really?” But he clearly is surprised, frowning at her for a second before turning his gaze to their sons. “Well that was silly of her, wasn’t it boys?”

“Uh huh!” Henry and Roland respond in unison, Roland’s head bobbing firmly for emphasis.  She absently runs her fingers through his curls as her mind races, trying to figure out what is happening.  Why Robin is acting as though Sunday night never happened. As though she never-

Regina’s breath catches in her throat.

_As though she never told him about the curse._

No.  No no no.  It can’t be. Her heart races and she still can’t breathe and she needs to be alone.  Needs a moment of quiet to find an alternate explanation for Robin’s behavior. One that doesn’t involve undoing what needed to be done.

Not wanting to upset the boys, she somehow manages to feign normality long enough to convince Robin that he should take them to wash their hands while she finishes prepping for the pizzas.  She barely waits for him to agree before rushing out of the room.

Standing in the kitchen, she braces her arms against the counter and forces herself to calm down. Takes deep breaths, in and out, in and out, and lets her mind go blank.  She will figure everything out, but not until her heart stops feeling like it’s going to burst out of her chest.

She is just starting to feel normal again when two warm rough hands fall on her shoulders.  She flinches instinctively and Robin apologizes as he quickly removes them.  It’s been a long time since he has forgotten how much she dislikes being touched without warning.  But she fears that is the least of what he has forgotten since Sunday.

“Regina. Love, what’s the matter?” The concern in his voice adds to her growing certainty.  He would not be so kind and understanding if he remembered who she really was.  Still, she has to be sure.

“Do you….do you remember our date last Sunday?”  She turns to face him and steels herself for his response.

“Last Sunday?” He frowns, his eyes growing hazy.  She watches as he struggles for a moment to remember and she knows she’s right when suddenly his expression clears but his eyes remain covered in that haze. The haze of the curse.

“Of course I remember. Roland was sick so we had dinner in. I left early when the sitter called to tell me the fever spiked.” His voice sounds so sure, so confident.  He has no idea the Sunday he’s remembering was months ago.  Of course he doesn’t.  The curse doesn’t want him to remember that clearly.  

The curse doesn’t want to let him go.

She should have known this would happen.  Should have realized that the curse would protect itself against tampering.

Should have understood that her victory was always meant to be hollow, and her punishment endless. Because it is punishment – the unending sameness, the loneliness of being the only one aware and awake.  And now the guilt.  The guilt that in her quest to achieve justice against Snow White and her allies, she has hurt the man she loved and his beautiful son. Even if neither is aware of the hurt.

She could try again. Push him to remember just like she did just five short days ago.  But there’s no guarantee it would work this time, either.  The curse caused him to forget so quickly; she would have to try to continually push him to remember. Which would be difficult when the first thing he did upon regaining his real memories was to get as far away from her as he could.

No, she’s certain that it wouldn’t work the next time.  And probably not the time after, or the time after that.  She’d have to keep trying, over and over, with no guarantee of success. No guarantee of anything except the pain she would relive over and over as he rejected her.  As he stared at her with such anger and disdain.

And maybe that's some form of justice.  For cursing him. For loving him.  But even if she deserves that pain, her son doesn’t.  The curse doesn’t have as fierce a grip on Henry as it does on the rest of the town.  He would notice something was off.  He would feel Robin’s absence in his life.  It would hurt him.

She can’t let it hurt him. She has to protect him from this. If she does nothing else right in her life, she  _will_ be a good mother to her son. Whatever the cost.

She has been silent too long and Robin’s worry is written all over his face as he asks her again what’s wrong.  

_What’s wrong is that you don’t remember.  And if the curse doesn’t break, you never will.  Roland will never grow up, but Henry will. They will grow apart and you’ll never notice.  Nothing will change_

_What’s wrong is that if the curse breaks you_ will  _remember.  And you’ll hate me.  You’ll take Roland from me.  Maybe Henry, too.  I’ll lose you all and they’ll come after me and I’ll let them because I’d rather be dead than be alone again._

_What’s wrong is I cast a curse to hurt everyone else and yet I’m somehow the one who hurts most of all._

He says her name again and she forces herself to respond.

“Nothing.  Nothing’s wrong.  Everything’s fine,” she says.  When he just continues to look skeptically at her, she throws him a bone. “I’m just tired.  It was a long day.”

He reaches out and she lets him pull her into his arms.  “Do you want us to go?” he offers as he rubs his hands soothingly up and down her spine. “I can take Henry back to my place for a sleepover, let you have some peace and quiet.”

He barely gets the words out before she tells him no. “I want you here.” She hesitates. “I…I want us together.”

“Then together we shall be.” He presses a kiss against the side of her head.  “For as long as you’ll have us.”

She chokes back something between a laugh and a sob. His arms tighten around her and the distress in his  _Regina, love please_ causes her resolve to weaken.  Maybe she should try again.  He’ll be angry (so angry) but maybe eventually he will forgive her and then-

And then the boys run into the room.  Roland burrows his way between them to show Regina his clean hands while Henry tugs on Robin’s pants and tells him that they picked up all the toys.  He lifts up his arms in a silent plea to be held and Robin scoops him up without hesitation.  Not to be outdone, Roland pleads in that sweet little voice for Regina to do the same.  She is as helpless to their boys as Robin and soon Roland is back in her arms, his little hands patting her shoulders as he excitedly tells her everything he’s going to put on his “humongous” pizza.  She can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.  She looks at Robin and Henry and makes certain to keep the smile on her face as she takes in the way Henry rests his head so comfortably on Robin’s shoulder.  They are beautiful together, the two of them.  The four of them.

No, she will not try again. She will hold onto this little family that they’ve made for as long as she can.  She will do what she can to shield them from the curse and pay the price when her happiness is inevitably ripped from her like it always is.

But for now, she will help their precious boys make pizza.  She will let their happiness and Robin’s affection soothe her soul.  She will smile and laugh and ease Robin’s concern enough that when she tells him everything else can wait until morning, he will believe her.  All she has to do is make it through this night.

Because in the morning, it will all be forgotten.

~


End file.
